Indigo Twilight
by viridianjane
Summary: Finally, Merlin looks at him. Softly, he replies, "You know how centuries can twist the true events of history and legends for the convenience of others." [Merlin/Freya] (Modern day, reincarnation)
1. Chapter 1

This is the first part of a series, and I will be posting all future parts as chapters to this fic! (In my head, all chapters can be read as separate fics, but all in the same universe/timeline)

Thanks for reading!

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The day is fading into the deep oranges and indigos of twilight, and Arthur rises to his feet, brushing the dirt off his jeans. "I guess we should head back now."

"Why have we all come back if we're just going to sit around at a park all day?" Gwaine tosses a rock down the hill where they had all spent the afternoon lounging. "I thought you said there was some kind of great destiny involved, Merlin."

Merlin stands, and stretches. Just like he was in Camelot, he's the youngest of them, and Arthur can't help but think that although Merlin was younger than he was now when he had first arrived in Camelot, he _looks_ younger. This second life has treated him much better. Three days in Camelot and Merlin's shoulders had already been weighed down by secrecy and destiny. Now, there is a peace about him that Albion never let him grow into.

"Well, Gwaine, I don't mean to burst your bubble but I don't need any interference from Destiny right now."

"What about some _good_ interference? Like a few pheasants we can chase or something."

Merlin snorts, and the others just shake their heads. "I still don't understand the pheasant joke," Percival says, exasperated but amused all the same.

"That's because it's an inside joke, you brute. Merlin and I had a special quest. Secret quest, too, isn't that right, Princess?"

Arthur sighs. "Gwaine, not now."

The others watch the exchange with curiosity, and Merlin doesn't bother to try and hide his laughter. One by one they get up and dust off, Arthur pulling Gwen to her feet. They make it over the crest of the hill and get a view of the lake, brilliant in the fading reflections of daylight. Arthur stops for a moment, just to breathe and take it in. _This life is so different from the last_.

"Hm? What's she doing?" Gwaine stops, holding his hand above his eyes to block out the sinking sun. The rest of the company turns to see what Gwaine is looking at, and Percival chuckles.

"It just looks like she's standing in the lake, Gwaine. Nothing too strange about that."

"Hm, I guess so. A lady in the lake. Or, a lady _of_ the lake. Ha!" Gwaine smacks Merlin on the back, smirking. "We wouldn't want that now, would we Merlin? Don't want you going and getting stuck in any trees any time soon."

"With our luck, it probably _is_ the lady of the lake," Arthur mutters, and Gwen tuts in admonishment. He shakes his head. It was all a joke, he knows. There was no such person as the Lady of the Lake. "Come on, let's get going. Morgana will kill us all if we're late."

That comment made for a few dark mutterings and grumblings, but it gets them moving. They only manage another 15 feet or so when Gwen tugs on Arthur's hand. "What is it?"

"Arthur… I think that maybe this time, it actually _is_ good luck."

"What? What are you talking about, Gwen?" But all she does is nudge her head in Merlin's direction. At this point, the rest of the knights have noticed they stopped and all turn to look at Merlin as well.

Merlin, who hasn't moved an inch, and is still staring at the girl in the water. _Oh, for the love of Camelot._ He jogs back to Merlin, and is a little unnerved when he doesn't even react to Arthur's hand on his shoulder. "Merlin? Merlin, what's wrong?"

Merlin doesn't answer, only frowns a little deeper and shakes his head. He opens his mouth to reply, and closes it. He tries again, still without success — and now Arthur is getting a little worried, because _why would Merlin be so affected by a girl? And one none of us know?_

 _Unless, of course, Merlin knows her._

"Merlin… if she really _is_ this Lady of the Lake, surely _you_ know how… untrustworthy she is. Come on. We can talk about it later."

Merlin scoffs, incredulous. "And you and Morgana fucked and sired Mordred."

Arthur pulls back, shocked. " _What?"_

Finally, Merlin looks at him. Softly, he replies, "You know how centuries can twist the true events of history and legends for the convenience of others."

 _There was a girl once… but Merlin prefers not to speak of her._

 _Why not, Gaius?_

 _She died. And some of that blame is on me, and — well. It breaks his heart, even now._

Arthur hears the others approaching behind him, but ignores them in favour of searching Merlin's expression, looking for any hint of doubt that she might not actually be who Merlin thinks she is. Finding none, he sighs. "Is she really the Lady of the Lake?"

Merlin's eyes are bright, and Arthur can tell he's fighting not to let his smile show. _"My_ Lady of the Lake," he whispers. And his cheeks turn _pink_.

Arthur sighs in defeat. _How can you say no to_ that _?_ He gestures forward with his hand, fighting not to smile himself. "Well, go on, then."

And Merlin _runs_.

" _Wha —_ Princess! What are you doing?" Arthur jumps forward to catch Gwaine before he runs off after Merlin. "He's only 18! He's too young to get turned into a tree yet!" The joke is still there, Arthur can tell, but there is an underlying tone of concern.

Leon comes up behind Arthur on his opposite side. "Is everything alright, Arthur?"

"It's fine, Leon." They all watch Merlin slow as he approaches the shore of the lake. The girl still hasn't noticed him, bent over and sifting through the water as if looking for something. Merlin hesitates, taking a step forward, taking a step back; lifts his hand and lowers it.

"Does he know her?" Gwen sidles up to him, wrapping an arm around his middle. "From _before?"_

Arthur can't help but smirk. "He said, ' _My_ Lady of the Lake'."

Gwen's brows lift in surprise, but there's a twinkle of amusement in her eyes. _"Oh."_

At that, the men with them are stumped into silence, with the exception of Lancelot — Arthur is still just a little frustrated that when it comes to Merlin, Lancelot _always_ seems to be the exception — whose silence is more thoughtful than anything.

"I was just joking, when I said _Lady of the Lake._ I didn't even know she was _real_."

"Well, it's a surprise for most of us, then." _Gaius must have known, after all._

Down by the water, they see Merlin flick his wrist and watch as a single rose sprouts from the lake, small and delicate and red.

"Merlin, a _romantic_ ," Gwaine laughs.

"I've always said he was a girl," Arthur huffs.

A hard jab to his ribs stops him. " _Arthur._ "

The girl freezes in the water at the sight of the rose, but she doesn't turn around. However, Arthur can tell from her body language that that is _deliberate_ , and his heart pounds in anticipation. Merlin says something, hands twisting and pulling in front of him, and the girl lifts her hand to touch the small flower. As soon as her fingers brush the stalk, the bud breaks off and fall into her open palm, leaving the rest to fade away into gold dust.

Finally, she turns. And even from so far away, Arthur can see the happiness on her face, can _feel it_ , and when she opens her mouth Arthur can hear the name she whispers as if he was standing there with them.

And then Merlin is _right there_ , lifting her off the ground and into his arms, spinning and making a mess — and laughing.

He stops, but he doesn't put her down. They hold so tightly to each other that Arthur is compelled to inch closer to Gwen, who gives his side a small, knowing squeeze.

Merlin puts her down gently, the hem of her long skirt soaking in the water. He turns to look at the rest of them, and she peeks around him shyly, keeping hold of his hand.

"Are you coming?" Arthur calls down to them.

"Do you think he'll bring her up to introduce us?" Gwaine wonders.

Arthur only hums, not really expecting it. There was something familiar about her, and the twisting in his gut makes him think it wasn't good.

Merlin leads her out of the water to her discarded shoes. he waits for her to slip them on before leaning down to kiss the corner of her mouth, saying something that makes her smile and hold up a hand to his cheek, but sure enough when she turns to leave it's in the opposite direction. Before turning completely away, however, she looks up the hill towards them and gives a slight bow.

Merlin watches her leave, watches as she weaves her way down the path until she is out of sight, and then he jogs back up the hill.

He stops just out of reach of them, looking a little nervous and a touch embarrassed. "Ah… well. Sorry about that."

"You didn't bring her up to introduce her to us?" Hurt, barely there but still recognizable in Gwen's tone, made Merlin flinch.

"She… well, she was a little overwhelmed, seeing _all_ of you here," Arthur had a weird feeling that _all of you_ actually just meant _him_ , but he keeps his mouth shut. "So I told it would be fine to wait a few days, to let it sink in."

And then silence, until Gwaine clears his throat. "So. Does _Your_ Lady of the Lake have a name, Merlin?"

His ears turn pink, but he manages to hide his reaction much better the second time around. "Freya," he smiles. "Her name is Freya."


	2. Chapter 2

As soon as Arthur gestures for Merlin to go, he is running. More like stumbling, really, down the hill.

To _Freya._

As soon as Gwaine brought her to everyone's attention, he knew it was her. It's _her,_ _his_ _Freya_ , and _how can 1500 years feel like a single breath now that she's here?_

Merlin stops a few feet from the shore; she hasn't noticed him yet. Freya is leaning over, sifting through the water as if looking for something; picking up stone after stone, discarding ones she doesn't like but not according to any kind of standard Merlin understands.

Merlin steps forward, inhales — _What if she doesn't recognize me? —_ exhales, and stops. He lifts his hand — to do what? _Wave? She's not even looking at me._

Merlin takes a deep breath and closes his eyes; he flicks his wrist and feels the flow of magic direct itself according to his will, and watches a single rose bloom ( _a rose?_ ) from the lake.

His hands are shaking.

Freya turns and freezes, shocked by the sudden and unnatural appearance, and it looks like she's about to stand, or back away, and Merlin _needs_ her to know, to remember, so he opens his mouth hoping something smart will come out, or at least —

"It was supposed to be a strawberry," he says truthfully, but dumbly.

Her shoulders relax, ever so slightly. Merlin twitches, wishing he could see her expression, to _see her face, just one more time —_

And she reaches out to touch the rose. As soon as she touches it, the stalk crumbles into stardust, and the bud lands in her palm, small and delicate and red and magic. "It's the right colour, though."

And she laughs, or sobs, and turns to face him. "Merlin."

" _Freya."_

" _Merlin!"_ She laughs, lifting her arms to receive his embrace, huffing at the force of it. He spins her round and round and round, not caring that now they're both mostly soaked below the waist. He stops, both of them breathing hard, but neither one willing to let go. Her face is tucked next to his, nose behind his ear and fingers knotted in his hair. His arms are locked around her waist, and he pulls them tighter, willing them even _closer, closer still —_

And Freya flinches. Barely, but Merlin notices; and now he can feel _why_ ; while still petite, there's a roundness to her, pushing against his middle, swelling with life. His heart picks up a staccato rhythm. "Freya."

She doesn't pull back to look at him, and when Merlin tries, she only holds herself tighter to him. "History," she whispers, tears not visible but audible, each one a nail hammered into Merlin's heart, "seems set on repeating itself, love."

 _I wasn't always like this._

 _There was a man. He attacked me. I didn't mean to hurt him, but I thought he was going to kill me._

 _His mother was a sorceress, and when she find out that I'd killed her son, she cursed me to kill forever more._

"Oh, Freya." Merlin puts her down, lowering her slowly. Hurt shines in her eyes for a second, perhaps thinking that her situation might put Merlin off — _never —_ and he takes her hands in his. "It's going to be alright."

She looks down at their hands, a small smile gracing her lips. "You don't know that, Merlin."

"Course I do." He turns to look up the hill, where sure enough the rest of his company are still standing and waiting for him. He feels Freya come closer, hand still held firmly in his own but not stepping forward. Arthur waves his arm and yells, probably something along the lines of _are you coming back yet_ , and he lowers his gaze back to Freya. "Do you want to go and meet them all?"

"I…"

Merlin isn't looking at the group anymore, but he knows that Freya's eyes were probably locked on Arthur. "It's okay, Freya. You don't have to."

She looks down. "I'm sorry. Maybe next time."

"Or the time after that, or the time after that. Anything you want, Freya." He tucks a finger under her chin, making her gaze lift to his own. "Gwaine has just so kindly reminded me that there seems to be no greater plan in the works, no interference from Destiny — just time. Lots of it." He lowered himself slowly, but when Freya doesn't move away, he places a kiss just off centre of her lips, and it makes her smile. "It's going to be alright."

She smiles at him, and cradles his face in her hands. "I believe you, Merlin."

Merlin's heart sings. "Good."

They walk out of the water and over to where Freya left her shoes, Merlin waiting with her in order to help her back up again. "Call me later tonight?"

Freya pats her pockets, looking for her phone. "Oh, but we didn't —"

Merlin chuckles, and when she looks up he knows his eyes are still fading from gold to blue. "It's alright. It's there."

And her smile is smaller, more shy, and there's a slight flush to her cheeks. "Ok. I'll call you, Merlin."

And then she's gone. She makes her way down the path, through the trees and out of sight.

Merlin sighs, and turns to make his way back up the hill. As he gets closer and is able to read the expressions of his friends more, he feels embarrassment creep up his chest. "Ah… well. Sorry about that."

"You didn't bring her to introduce her to us?" Merlin winced at the barely concealed hurt in Gwen's voice, but he had promised Freya _whenever you're ready_ , so there's no backing down now.

"She… was a little overwhelmed, seeing _all_ of you here," he notices Arthur frowning at that, and hopes that he doesn't recognize her, "so I told her that it would be fine to wait a few days, to let it sink in."

Silence, then. _I wonder how long they're going to let that fly._

"So," Gwaine clears his throat. "Does _your_ Lady of the Lake have a name, Merlin?"

 _Damn you, Arthur_. Merlin feels his cheeks heat up, but he still can't help the joy bubbling in his chest. "Freya," he smiles. "Her name is Freya."


End file.
